


Cupid

by Leaveitbrii



Series: The Queen and I [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Uses His Words, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:01:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leaveitbrii/pseuds/Leaveitbrii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t know why she was there, why she was there- in, in Derek’s jacket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupid

He didn’t know why she was there, why she was there- in, in Derek’s jacket. Stiles blinks, fingers twisting around the steering wheel of his jeep. He can hear the rubber protesting against his skin, can feel it burning because why, why is she there? Derek is beside her, unmoving. He knows Derek notices him- he can tell by the way his nose twitches, brow furrowing forward. Stiles is out his jeep before he realizes, the piercing sound of metal crunching and bouncing back ringing through the air and Derek finally looks at him.

She- Ms. Blake- jumps, startled, eyes searching the surroundings until she follows Derek’s gaze to the side, to where Stiles has stopped. There’s an obvious distance between them. Ms. Blake has the nerve to look surprised, realization dawning in her face and Stiles feels as if he walked in on something private, something he wasn’t included in. Derek is no longer staring at him, his attention, his focus shifting to her and he’s speaking, mouth moving and she’s looking at him, she’s responding, she’s handing him his jacket.

It’s so personal, so inexplicably private and it’s not fair. It’s not fair that her face is so kind and understanding and beautiful, that she’s touching him, hand on his bicep, that she has his jacket. Stiles watches Derek tell Ms. Blake goodbye, his expression soft, content and Stiles wishes that he didn’t feel like such a child. He blinks, eyes burning, tears that feel like acid and salt, mouth dry with bitterness. Ms. Blake turns to him, her face glittering and beautiful and kind and she smiles, fucking smiles, at him and Stiles bites the inside of his cheek.

Derek sees her off; car disappearing into the darkness, around the corner and Derek faces him and he’s never seen him so unhappy. Stiles kicks at the gravel beneath him, spinning on his heel and marching back in the direction of his Jeep, door still ajar. He’s barely there, barely has his hand on the door handle when Derek reaches him, his large hand pushing it closed. 

Stiles shoves at him, shoves at the arm that refuses to budge from the door, shoves at his chest. Derek doesn’t budge, doesn’t even shift, instead he stares. 

“Jesus, Derek. Move.” Stiles grinds out, shoving him again.

Stiles isn’t even sure why he’s upset, why he even drove here to see Derek. He could’ve been at home with his dad, making sure he doesn’t eye those take out menus hidden in the upper cabinet, making sure his homework is done. Stiles tries again, fists balled up against Derek’s abs. He doesn’t understand why he’s here. 

“I’ll drive you home.”

Stiles nods wordlessly, legs stiffly carrying him to the passenger’s side of his jeep. He climbs inside, not bothering with the seatbelt, butterflies rumbling against the lining of his stomach. His face is dry and peeling against his cheeks. He feels ugly and helpless but he's human after all he's allowed these things, these weaknesses every now and then. The ride is quiet, steeling and Stiles focuses on the trees that past and not the man beside him. Derek deserves to be happy, he deserves someone who can hold him up, help him, treasure him, someone who isn't focusing on keeping his bests friend alive or getting a high score on the SATs. Derek slows the car to a stop, sliding in beside the cruiser in Stiles’ driveway, fingers uncurling from the steering wheel. The silence shifts against the air, tangible and thickening.

Why couldn't he be happy? He knew what he wanted, what he could snatch away, what he could take because that's what people do for happiness- it's a selfish, undiluted feeling that you don't have to answer for. Its there; prominent and yours. 

"I'm.. I'm sorry. You don't need my permission to go out, to date people. It's fine. You can do these things and I can't stop you." Even though he wants to, even though he'd rather throw himself at the alphas than let them be together. Stiles chews his lower lip, heart thundering in his head. Derek is looking at him, face open and stunning. His hand reaches out, wiping tears away with the pad of his thumb and Stiles knows that he deserves better.

"I'm sorry.”

"You're not allowed to be sorry." Stiles mumbles. "It's ok. It's so, so ok. Please, please just be happy." His lips tremble around a sob. "You deserve to be happy. I don’t even know why I’m upset. It doesn’t even make-“

Derek leans in, noses brushing softly before pressing their lips together. Stiles makes an aborted noise in the back of his throat. This wasn’t on his list of expectations for the night. Then again neither was popping up at Derek’s. But he knows that Derek’s lips are on him. Derek is kissing him. Stiles. 

Stiles grasps the collar of Derek’s shirt, lips parting against Derek’s because kissing. Kissing was something he could deal with. He can feel stubble against his face; feel Derek’s mouth coaxing his mouth into steady rhythm. Stiles is glad he ignored standard safety driving precautions because that makes climbing onto Derek’s lap so much easier. Derek complies easily, checking to make sure he’s comfortable before smashing their mouths together.

Stiles whimpers, his bottom lip bruising between the alpha’s teeth, one hand tangled in Derek’s ridiculously perfect hair, the other curled over his shoulder. He realizes kissing Derek is just as hot as his dreams made it out to be. Stiles figures he needs to breathe sometime soon, his jaw numb, lips sore. He pulls away, saliva hanging off his lip. Derek wipes it away with his thumb, eyes hooded, blown red. It’s nice to know that Stiles put that look there. 

Derek presses their foreheads together. “Would you believe me if I said I am happy?”

Stiles nods. “Oh yeah, definitely. I can, um, feel it.”

And as if a switch flicked on somewhere, Derek is glaring at him, the familiar broodiness sending Stiles into a fit of laughter because he’s pretty sure that look is reserved for him alone. 

“Thanks for driving me home.” Stiles whispers against his skin.  
“I’d invite you in but you probably have wolfie things to do.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Goodnight Stiles.”

Stiles kisses him a final time. “Night, Wolfman.”

It doesn’t take long for Stiles to get inside, for him to slither out of his clothes as the stress of the day finally settled against his bones. He falls asleep to dullness of his room, the crack in his window shuffling chill air inside. It’s not until the middle of the night when Stiles barely registers the dip in his bed or the solid warmth beside him that Derek comes back. 

Stiles mouths words into Derek’s chest he doesn’t fully understand what he’s saying but Derek replies anyway. It’s close to 4 and Stiles needs to go back to sleep. Stiles cracks an eye open at him, the soft light from outside illuminating the side of Derek’s profile. 

“You should drive me to school.”

“Alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing against Ms. Blake. Honestly. But yeah.   
> Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
